A Bet
by Lucianus
Summary: A cute little NorrisxGlenn piece. A certain bet is made - can Glenn live up to it? A product of an English classroom assignment.


Title: A Bet.   
Genre: Crono Cross  
Author: Biko no Seishi  
Rating: R  
Pairing: NorrisxGlenn  
Feedback: engel@gundamwing.net  
Notes: I actually have to thank Cheyne for this, the inspiration of the pairing and the sudden realisation her stories offered me, in that I know realised how very cute my two favourite characters would be together. I hope this lives up to standards!  
  
***  
  
It was a temporary situation at best. It was actually rather incomprehensible that Norris *didn't* know yet: it wasn't like Glenn was being more obtuse than usual. And even if he had, the leader of the Black Wind should surely have been more observant than he was - perhaps he wasn't interested at all, perhaps, despite the undeniable attentions he had bestowed upon Glenn more than any other in their party, and the short, hushed conversations they had while aiding Serge in setting up their camp. He knew Norris paid more attention to him than any other, but that could easily be simply because the commander found it easier to talk to him, a fellow soldier, than any other in the group.   
  
Glenn sighed bitterly - he seemed to be thinking a lot of Norris, and not of the crucial mission that they shared, brought by fate to work with Serge. Serge had just found him one day, and offered him a bellflower when there were none to be found in the entire city of Termina, and yet the youth had not asked for any payment. Glenn remembered that strange generosity, and only a few days after, found himself asking Serge to use his boat.   
  
That night, the youth had had a nightmare, and only Glenn awoke to hear his   
soft whimpers and the strangled moan that escaped his throat. He had awoken Serge, then held him as the boy spilled his troubled story, the strange explanation of the two dimensions, his travels through space if not time as well, and all that had befallen him on his path. It had begun his own journey alongside Serge, aiding in battles against the foul monsters that had overtaken the land, and learning of himself as well. Many secrets, of his father, and Dario, had been revealed as he was with Serge, and many secrets he had discovered within himself. Those secrets came in self-discovies, of his true talents, his Elemental abilities, and most recently his heart. Especially when it came to the fair Commander of the Black Wind.   
  
Glenn slammed his fist absently into the soft earth beneath him, then let himself sprawl backwards against the grounds. He stared up, his eyes edjusting to the darkness, and stars became visible. They weren't the same stars as he knew, though, confirming the alternate dimension to him once more. He always forgot what world he was in, since they were practically identical. Serge always knew, so he didn't have to worry about it. He only had to worry about Norris.   
  
A soft, half-meant curse escaped Glenn's lips, disappating into a cloud of white warmth in the cold night air. The sound of muffled footsteps almost escaped him, and Glenn began to look up, only to be stopped by the sudden hiss of breath against his ear.   
  
"And who, or what, exactly, was that for?" came the familiar, almost accursed for the suffering it had caused him, voice against his flesh, which promptly shivered at the indirect touch. Norris. It had to be Norris, the object of all his thoughts. No other had quite that smell, or the inflections in his musical voice that would either make him a leader or an outcast, depending on the ideas espoused by his throat.   
  
Glenn refused to turn his head and see Norris' smiling face, the sheer joy that the Porre commander revelled in, if somewhat maniacal. Glenn had hardly seen the melancholy intelligence that Serge insisted was a crucial part of Norris' personality. Perhaps if he didn't look at Norris, he could pretend that the older youth wasn't there.   
  
An answer swelled up in his throat, "It was meant for my troubles, for this unending battle." He heard Norris settle gently on the ground beside him, but kept his eyes to the stars. "The battle without or within you?" Norris breathed gently, his gaze intent on the brooding young man. Glenn could just feel his stare, roving over his face for a response. He wanted to curse again, that Norris was so perceptive, but another curse was not what he needed.   
  
"Both battles, but mostly the one within me, and without, caused by you," Glen muttered absently, his mouth failing to catch the last before it was said. His eyes flickered open in shock as he realised what had excapsed his censuring lips. He shot up, scuttling back as he found and watched Norris' face. Blue eyes stared at him, curious, yet almost greedy, a predator watching his prey. That bestial comparison stayed in his mind, as Norris dropped his gaze, breathing in deeply.   
  
"I caused you harm, Glenn?" he whispered, a strange expression coming over his face. All the jovial atmosphere seemed to flee his countenance, leaving a soft vulnerability that resisted an obvious attempt to harden into indifference, leaving Norris deliberately open to Glenn. The young Dragoon was struck by an impulse to gather Norris to his breast and stroke the short blond hair, as if it would help.   
  
"No! No, you've not hurt me, but in your name I seem to have hurt myself," Glenn replied urgently, throwing reserve to the beasts of the forest around them to plunder and devour. He had no use for it. Norris had given up his defenses, it seemed - his exuberance, a defense! - and the least he could do was the same.   
  
"How? Don't tell me you've cut yourself or something, or taken up a whip, you shouldn't hurt yourself for me, I'm not -" Norris caught himself, deep blue eyes shuttering. "Not worth it? I know that feeling. But no, I have not wounded myself for you. It is the self-flagellation of the mind I suffer from, and that you inadvertantly have caused."  
  
"I am doubly guilty, then. But, explain to me," Norris mumbled, his gaze downcast. Glenn gulped. It seemed rather silly now, to be saying it to the object of his confusion. "I, eto, you, you confuse me so!" Glenn yelped, standing up. Norris reached towards him, he could barely see through clenched eyelashes, and as tears of helplessness threatened to darken his thick lashes further, he darted away, running blindly into the forest.   
  
Norris sat, slumping as he stared at the spot where Glenn had just been, the ground still warm at his searching fingertips. He crumbled the earth into his fist, his hand trembling, then released the calling ground. It seemed to speak to him, vibrating through his Elemental powers with every footstep, thrumming into him as he sat in it's warm embrace, yet for all the times he'd pleaded, it would not swallow him up.   
  
It should, after this last fiasco. How could he have gone so wrong, trying to tell Glenn of his emotions? How how Glenn have so awfully misinterpreted him to suffer of such confusion? He didn't evne know if Glenn was like *that*, like he was. He had thought that Glenn liked him, but it could only be his fault. How else could Glenn have been so confused?  
  
Norris stood, raking a filthy, dirty hand through his hair, the sandy soil almost matching the stringy, sweaty gold strands. He smeared the dirt across his face to hide the tracks of lightning tears that streaked down with thunderous intent to mar his face. He turned, and headd back to camp.   
  
***  
  
Glenn watched as Norris returned to the camp, his sullen demeanour quickly erased as Glenn watched, unseen, to be jovial and light in counterpoint to Serge's introspective mood that evening. Glenn stayed in the shadows as the girls flocked to Norris, giggling and blushing at his every disinterested comment, be it of fashion or of the war against Lynx's forces at hand. For all the girls that he attracted as the young, handsome blond commander of the elite Black Wind, he didn't seem all that flirtatious with them. Then again, what would Glenn know of Norris' flirtations?  
  
The older youth retired too quickly to his tent, unusually early, causing a minor roar of curious gossip amongst his admirers, including Serge's girlfriend, Leena. Leena was a village girl that had grown up with Serge, and despite Serge's muteness and Leena's talkative nature, they seemed to truly love each other in a bizarre, married-for-ten-years already fashion. The girl shot Norris' tent a glance, then walked back to the fire, pulling Serge aside briefly. Serge stood, his face expressionless as Leena whispered in his ear, sharply eyeing Glenn in between breaths.   
  
Serge pulled away, smiling awkwardly as Leena nodded in affirmation of whatever she had just said. Glenn watched, slightly envious as Serge stroked her fingers lightly, then released them, settling on the ground to stare into the fire. Leena smiled absently, then looked up, grinning wickedly for an imperceptible second at Glenn before darting away.   
  
Serge stood, approaching the shadows where the young knight sat, slumped where Norris couldn't see him easily. Glenn didn't move as Serge crouched down next to him, but turned his head. The youth gazed at him briefly, then broke his silence quietly.   
  
Serge's voice always came as a shock. It was so rare, so hardly used that any word from him was made more powerful by the usual lack thereof. And therefore the youth held it back, his eyes asking a question. Glenn wrinkled his brow, covering his eyes and the flush that rose to his face.   
  
"I'm sulking because Norris has confused me. He is always hanging around me, smiling just so...I do not even know! Some emotions are not meant to be dealt with, and I believe that which he wakes within me is one of those. He just..." Glenn sighed. He wasn't even making sense ot himself, which would likely explain the smirk on Serge's lips, and the subsequent silent question. At least the boy was a good listener, for his silence.   
  
"Yes, I know how I feel, but...I cannot admit it to him. He would be shocked, offended, and I cannot do that while I may need him, you may need him, in battle. His reactions, his attentions, they confuse me! Do you think he returns my feelings? Or is he just seeking friendship in a fellow soldier?" Glenn winced, his voice louder in his despairing mood than he would have liked. He cast a glance, finding Norris still within his tent, and tehrefore mercifully oblivious.   
  
Serge snickered, then actually spoke, his voice strangely melodious from disuse. "Tell him. Tomorrow," Serge smirked. Glenn stared at him, then at the ground. "If you don't, you'll owe me 5'000 gil," Serge continued. Glenn looked at him strangely, then arched his eyebrow, "What is that kind of talk intended to mean?"  
  
"It's a bet," Serge grinned, then stood and walked away without waiting for Glenn's response. The young knight sighed wearily, and continued to sulk, slumping onto the forest floor.   
  
***  
  
Gambling. How had gambling led to this? Glenn crouched beside the firepit from last night, watching as Miki and Kid used their red elements to light the blaze again. The fire seemed to dwindle, before finally flaring into all it's heated glory. That seemed to matter to him. Glenn snorted at the image, the flames mocking him as he tossed his ribbons over his shoulder, and stalked towards the forest.   
  
Norris would follow, he was sure. His behaviour had been odd enough for the past few days that the Porre soldier hardly left him a minute alone unasked. Glenn couldn't say, however, that he was upset with the company. Norris would find him, he always seemed to, and probably would probe him for the truth about the past night's near-truth. And it would be so easy to just tell him!   
  
Glenn sighed as the trees parted for him, offering whispering, concerned caresses with their leaves. There was something positively wonderful about his innate colour and the forest's interaction with him. While Norris enjoyed sitting on beaches and in dry earth, the damp ground and fallen leaves seemed to ensconce him in a similar, although opposite, beauty.   
  
He smiled at the comparison. He and Norris were so alike, yet disimilar. Their very innate techniques were opposing, and where Norris was outgoing, he was shy and quiet, where his unknowing beloved was gleeful, he was reserved. Any number of parallel structures could be laid in contrast between them. Yet they were equals, both servants of a lord, and while he was a knight, Norris was a soldier, creating just enough similarities to bond them, and enough differences to allow actual comparison and conversation between them.  
  
That was certainly something that Glenn had missed, as he became increasingly aware of his attraction. He had been insecure - that would have to change - and thus, less open in their talk. Norris would be glad to see the conversational, thoughtful Glenn back rather than his recent stuttering, blushing dinner companion.   
  
Glenn sat, absently noting the exact position in the forest was the same as the night before, and sunk into the sense of the trees. They filled his senses, allowing his thoughts to run free amongst them, and teaching him another technique as he lay in the leaves, the plants curling around him.   
  
It was dusk when Glenn awoke with a growl from his stomach. He looked around in surprise, and the comforting assumption of Norris' presence slipped away bitterly, leaving only an empty feeling of guilt. He must have driven Norris away, with his words last night.   
  
"Why else wouldn't he have come?" he muttered, brushing himself off, and pulling the weeds that had curled around his limbs off. A stick cracked itself behind him, and he whirled, his hand on the Einlanzer just in case. Norris stepped forward, the plants recoiling slightly from his innate as the sand in the ground reach up to cushion him. The dusk's last rays shadowed his face with purple and red lights, his golden hair reflecting like the fire he had watched that morning. His expression was darker than usual, though, setting Glenn alert as he dropped his hand from the holy sword.   
  
"Who do you speak of?" Norris asked, his voice nervous and soft. Glenn watched him, stepping forward in concern, then realised the question, and looked down. "I - I," he stammered, then continued forcefully, "I spoke of thee. I did not know if thou wouldst have come." Glenn cursed himself for slipping into dialect, but Norris said nothing.   
  
"Ah," Norris' shoulders slumped, and he nodded, suprisingly not verbose. "I am sorry, Norris - I had not assumed you would, but I had hoped," Glenn spoke softly, his voice whispering over the strangely quiet soldier. Norris nodded again as they began to walk back to camp, silence falling between them.   
  
Glenn cleared his throat, beginning to prepare himself to tell the blonde man as they approached the clearing. His stomach twisted, choking his words as Norris smiled, sliding back into his boisterous self as the girls saw him. "Come, Glenn, I bet you haven't eaten all day!" Norris announced too loudly, claiming Glenn's wrist as he dragged him to the fire, and food.   
  
Glenn cursed, unable to ask Norris to speak. He would owe Serge the 5'000 gil after all. He drew out the money from his purse, mostly gained from battle, and handed it discreetly to Serge, who looked at it in dismay. Glenn sighed, and ate his food as Norris gladly chattered more than enough for both of them.   
  
***  
  
Norris was still awake. Something had been brewing, something powerful, in the forst, and he didn't want to tempt fate that Glenn might have discovered anything. The camp was long asleep, but he was not. There was still something horribly amiss between Glenn and himself, and the knight was likely tormenting himself just as he was, and therefore awake enough for a hopefully beneficial visit.  
  
Norris stalked out of his tent, smirking as his skills from the military made is painfully easy to sneak to Glenn's tent, and slip inside. True enough, the knight was awake, sitting up with a start from his bedding at Norris' entrance.   
  
Glenn nearly gasped as the very figure of all nightmares, dreams and thoughts strode into his tent. He blushed, swiping his face as Norris sat down gracefully beside him. The man's legs were just too long to have that sort of elegance, but they did. Norris seemed to like redefining things, especially how a man's legs should look with the shapely breeches he wore still. The armoured vest was gone, leaving him a tight shirt, and the indecent breeches. Glenn's breath hissed as it escaped, allowing his oxygen-starved mental capacity to reveal how awful he probably looked in only tunic and hose as he wore.   
  
Norris watched Glenn's face darken suspiciously, but he berated himself for thinking such things about such an obviously typical youth, likely with a girl at home in Termina. He winced at the thought, and spoke, distracting Glenn from his troubles.   
  
"We have a problem, Glenn. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but it's driving you nuts. I value our friendship, and I just need to figure what I'm screwing up. I miss talking with you, Glenn-kun, really talking," Norris sighed, clasping the youth's hand in his sincerity.   
  
"Norris! It is no fault of thine. Instead, it is only my own, and, and..." Glenn's voice trailed off, a beseeching tear escaping his eyes at the awful reaction he was sure Norris would have, but he had to tell him. The Porre soldier leaned closer to allow Glenn's voice no strain, and whispered, "and what?"  
  
Glenn met his gaze truly accidentally, as he opened them from wrenching the tears out. Norris had misjudged their distance in the dark of Glenn's tent, and their noses nearly touched. Glenn stared awkwardly up at the blond man, his blue eyes nearly black in the gloom, then gasped as he inched forward, uncontrollably. Norris' eyes widened as they approached, then shut as their mouths met suddenly, driven by both of them despite their beliefs.   
  
It was hot and wet, slipping between them as the chaste touch became a devouring of each, Glenn twining his arms into Norris' hair and around his slim waist, the soldier struggling to support himself with one hand and hold Glenn's head to his with the other. Finally Glenn pulled away, gasping for breath i what he thought was the perfect resolution to a rather stereotypically wonderful first kiss.   
  
He looked as Norris, who had also succumbed to oxygen loss, and whispered, "Fate." Norris smirked and disagreed, "Love." Glenn snorted, and hissed, "I will argue thee that point, Norris." "Then you'll argue with my tongue, Glenn. And have I ever mentioned how I love it when you slip into dialect?" Norris grinned, pulling Glenn's lips to his before the other could answer.   
  
Glenn yanked back, rolling them so Norris was below him, and cradled the older man's face in his hands. "Dost thou, beloved?" he whispered hoarsely, stealing another lengual embrace before Norris replied, "I do, love." Glenn smiled shakily, sitting up briefly to arrange his legs in a far more satisfactory straddle, only to yelp as his ribbons yanked his head back. Norris snickered, then burst out laughing.  
  
***  
  
Serge giggled to Leena beside the dying fire at the retort of very recognisable laughter from what was very recognisably Glenn's tent. He pulled the 5'000 gil out from his own bag, and snuck over with all the stealth Norris had thought he had earlier, placing it next to the door. He returned to Leena's side, smiling at the raucous laughter. He blinked suddenly as the laughter was silenced, and Leena bit her lip, grinning. Serge eyed the tent, then snorted.   
  
***  
  
Glenn stumbled to the tent door the next morning, a towel or shirt or some piece of cloth, likely from Norris, held in front of him. He stuck his head outside, his hair miserably disheveled and his ribbons torn out, and winced as Serge winked at him, and pointed to the ground. He grumbled at the bag of gil, then stooped to scoop it up. The young knight watched sleepily as a slip of paper fluttered to the ground, and he bent again to pick it up. He blushed as a loud whistle erupted behind him, and nearly jumped as a warm arm snaked over his hips and into an indecent place for public contact.   
  
Norris grinned at the furious blush on Glenn's face and the delectable view he had enjoyed all the way to the door, and peered out the door flap. He smirked, nibbling up Glenn's neck to evoke a gasp, and thrust his free hand out the door. He waved a V-sign briefly, then pulled Glenn back inside. Glenn pouted, dancing away teasingly as he read the slip, then tossed it to the side, laughing as Norris tackled him to the rumpled bedding.   
  
***  
  
Owari.  
  
*** 


End file.
